Love. Love. Love.

Why did you and I come back to Mass this weekend? Didn’t we just do this a few days ago? And wasn’t it spectacular enough to carry us for a lifetime ~ or at least more than 5 days? Well of course there are many holy and true reasons to be here for every Mass. The reason I invite you to explore with me today is the nature of love and hate.

When somebody sincerely tells us, “I hate you,” we are prone to easily believe it. Forever. We own it and carry it around with us: a jagged stone that sits in our gut.

But when somebody sincerely tells us, “I love you,” we are amazed. If we do fully receive and accept the love offered that day, we are likely to question it soon after. We want to hear the words again. We want gifts. And letters. We want to eat meals together, spend time together, make plans together. We crave intimate proof. Proof after proof after proof. Why?

I suggest that part of the reason is that we are fallen creatures, so unlikely to fully believe that we are truly loveable in our weakness, and so aware that our own faithfulness can be a spun-glass thread.

I also think another piece of the puzzle is God’s/Love’s infinite variety. Whereas hate has no diversity, wonder, growth, or life at its core, love is infinitely the opposite. This very nature of love causes so much variation in its expression and reception that we humans often fall short of true communication of it. We are driven to seek love’s fullness by repeatedly seeking what snippets we can interpret at the time. Plus, our ability to surrender our whole selves to another usually takes time. So as we change, grow, and deepen, the question becomes, “But do you love THIS, too?”

And The Holy Spirit – the Love of God, The One Who Answers The Cry – brings us back to Mass to hear the words again. To receive gifts and letters. To eat together, spend time together, make plans together. To hear Him say, in the profound intimacy of the Eucharist, “Yes. I love you. I loved you before; I love you now; I love you forever.”